


sliding away from the sun

by nepetrel



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood Drinking, Captivity, M/M, Mind Control, Sibling Incest, Treat Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 00:35:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16006595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nepetrel/pseuds/nepetrel
Summary: Will gasped like he couldn’t help it and tilted his head back to docilely allow himself to be fed. Avery kept one hand on the back of Will’s neck as he tipped the blood bag to his lips and started talking, trying to drown out the part of him that kind of – liked this bit. Found something satisfying in being able to provide for Will with his own blood and feed him it by hand.





	sliding away from the sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chicago_ruth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicago_ruth/gifts).



Avery used to think he was blessed to like both his day job and his night job. He’d spent the better part of six years wandering from one thing to the other, but right around when he’d turned twenty-two he’d realized he found something oddly satisfying about fitting weirdly-shaped heavy objects through doorways and around corners and decided to stick with moving. Maybe it was all that Tetris when he was a kid. In any case, he even liked moving stuff up stairs, so he basically had this job locked down until he chose to leave it or his knees gave out, whichever came first. 

Then he’d started hunting, and that was even better, if just as bad on his knees. Probably he was supposed to think it was a solemn duty, but Avery was only so good at solemn, and it was a rush. It worked well with his day job, too. They never worked nights, so Avery had a lot of free time exactly when he needed it. They were professional, but they still lifted a bunch of heavy stuff, so no one thought it was weird if Avery was ever bruised up. And the hours were flexible enough that he had downtime nearly every day, which had been really useful lately. 

So he’d used to think he was blessed, and then six months ago he’d started thinking he was cursed. That in all of his having fun and making a game out of hunting, he’d lost sight of the most important thing about it, and some higher power had decided to punish him for it in a way he would never forget or recover from. But the hours were still good.

Today he’d had a three-man job in the morning and nothing until late afternoon, which was a longer gap than he’d needed. “Want to grab something to eat in between?” Raj asked, hanging out of the front window of their truck. He was a nice guy and had stuck around long enough that he was only still considered new because no one else had joined up since. Avery used to think that they were becoming friends, back before he’d started blowing Raj off every time he asked to hang out. Raj asked a lot less now. Avery figured sooner or later he’d stop asking at all. 

Sure enough, he didn’t look surprised when Avery begged off. “You have a hot date or something?” He asked, unimpressed. 

Avery paused halfway through shrugging on his jacket. “Sort of,” he said. “I do have someone waiting for me at home.” 

Raj whistled, because he was twelve, and Isaac yelled, “get it!” from the back, because he was fourteen. Avery flipped them both off, though Isaac couldn’t see it, and drove normally until he was out of their line of sight, and drove like a maniac after that, all the way until he made it back to his apartment. 

The first thing he did, before even locking the front door, was check the door. It didn’t need any other description; as far as he was concerned, it was the only door that mattered. It looked just like it had the last time he checked it. Sighing, he wandered back to his living room and threw his jacket onto the mattress he’d dragged out there. It fluttered down sadly to slide off the foot of it. His aim was better when he threw his keys into their little bowl, and he didn’t leave anything up to chance as he carefully got his blood out of its special fridge and into a bowl of room-temperature water. That done, he locked the front door before allowing himself to collapse onto the bed and try to find a way to kill a few minutes. He got out his phone, did a round of tasks for his newest mindless idling game, caught some Pokemon. He opened Tinder, closed it, opened it again. Swiped through some pics and imagined going on a date with his mind on a door in his apartment the whole time. He closed Tinder again and went back to idling. 

He knew on instinct when the blood was warm enough, and it was almost a relief to retrieve it. Only almost, because of what came next.

Even from the outside, the door looked fucked. Avery had reinforced it and everything else until it was all at least six inches thick, and it was obvious from the awkward way it bulged into the hallway. He’d added more locks than most people had on every door combined and they crammed together awkwardly in a line on the right. Avery undid them one after the other by rote, and when the last one clicked open, he put his shoulder to the door and heaved it open. 

The door faced a window, and as he came in, a line of light sliced open on the floor and yawned wider. Just beyond it, the person in the chair didn’t flinch. He knew exactly how far that line could stretch. It stopped right before his bound feet, and then receded as Avery shut the door behind himself and flipped on the light. 

“Hi, Will,” Avery said.

“Hey,” Will rasped out, smiling. 

He looked awful. Even in the dim light of the single bulb by the door, Avery could see the hollows under his cheeks, how sunken and gray his eyes were. His lips were cracked and bloodless, and his hands, just visible before the lines of zip ties that lashed his forearms to the arms of the chair, looked like they belonged to a corpse. 

They did, Avery reminded himself, and came closer. 

Will’s nostrils flared, like they always did. He could smell the blood through the bag, somehow. He swallowed once, twice. It made the hollows of his neck even starker. Avery knew he wasn’t feeding him enough, that Will was starving by inches. But Will still asked, “did you do anything fun today?”

“Oh, sure,” Avery said, cracking the bag open. Will gasped like he couldn’t help it and tilted his head back to docilely allow himself to be fed. Avery kept one hand on the back of Will’s neck as he tipped the blood bag to his lips and started talking, trying to drown out the part of him that kind of – liked this bit. Found something satisfying in being able to provide for Will with his own blood and feed him it by hand. “I moved this big sectional up three flights of stairs. It wasn’t bad, except Raj almost dropped it on the very last landing, and I had to brace it with my body to keep it from falling all the way down.” 

He eased the bag back, let Will lick his lips and gulp in some air, for all that he didn’t need it. “You’re going to have bruises on your shoulders tomorrow,” Will said. “I can smell it.”

“Yeah?” Avery tilted the bag again, let Will have some more blood. “That’s where it caught me, so good nose, I guess.” It was actually where something had caught him with an iron bar when he was out hunting the previous night, but Will didn’t need to know that. The sectional had mostly gotten him in the knees. 

Avery took the bag away when it was empty, and Will followed it with his neck the bare inches he was able to jerk it forward before he collapsed, shutting his eyes. When he opened them again, they were a little brighter. “I can smell a lot of things now,” he said. “Including whatever weird shit you left to die underneath my desk.” 

“There’s nothing under there,” Avery said, not moving to check. Will was starving, but he’d just been fed, and even hungry he was stronger than any human could be. Avery wasn’t stupid enough to turn his back. “And it’s my desk.” 

“It _was_ mine,” Will insisted. “Don’t even lie, you stole it out of Mom’s garage.”

“You weren’t using it,” Avery pointed out. “That’s why it was in the garage.” 

“I was going to! There wasn’t enough room in my apartment, I was going to take it to the next place!”

“Well – ” Avery started, then bit down the thought that followed. _Well, you’re never going to have a next place, so…_

Will clearly heard it anyway. He deflated, looking down at where his hand curled around the arm of the chair. “I miss Mom,” he said quietly. “Is she doing okay?” 

The last time Avery had seen their mom, she had seemed okay and kept seeming that way until her phone rang and she broke down. _I can’t,_ she’d sobbed, _I can’t take another call like that again._ Avery hadn’t known if she’d meant the call telling her Will was dead, or the call after that telling her someone had dug up Will’s grave and his body was missing, but he’d nodded and resignedly held her and gotten out of there as quickly as he could afterwards. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her go an hour without crying. She’d gone back to work, so Avery knew she managed it eight times a day, but Avery never saw it. He suspected he reminded her of Will, even though Will had always looked more like her and Avery had always looked more like their dad. They’d always used to visit her together, and now they never would again.

“Mom’s fine,” Avery said. “I baked her a pan of brownies for her birthday and she ate them in one sitting.” 

“Oh man.” Will grinned, and Avery felt a sudden pang. His familiar crooked smile looked not quite right with all the color washed out of it. “How big a pan? Are we talking like one of those little square ones, or…?”

“A big rectangle,” Avery said. “I thought if I made a double batch, they’d at least last her the day, but…” 

Will laughed, and it sounded the exact same as when he was alive. “Amateur move, dude,” he said. “You have to freeze half of them. It’s the only way.” 

“Right,” Avery said. Suddenly he couldn’t stand to be in the same room as Will, who was the same person he’d always been, except that he’d killed three people and tried to kill Avery, too. “I’ll feed you again next week,” he said, crushing the bag in his hand and walking backwards to the door. 

“Wait, Avery. She misses me too, right?” Will frowned. “Are you ever going to let me see her again? Or anyone?” 

“You’d kill her if I did,” Avery said, hating every word and knowing it was true. “She wouldn’t believe me if I told her to keep her distance because you’re always going to be her baby, and she wouldn’t get away fast enough, and you’d drain her until there was nothing left. You’d kill our _mom_ ,” and he was yelling, and he made himself stop. 

Will just looked at him, still frowning. “Avery, this isn’t going to work,” he said, and his voice was dead serious, the kind of serious Avery hadn’t heard since their dad was dying. Will hadn’t been able to keep from joking even when he woke up in Avery’s room the first time, tied up and starving, and that’s what had made Avery think, _we can do this. This can work._ “You can’t keep me here forever. I’m already fading away.” 

“I’m talking to a guy at the blood bank,” Avery said. “I’m close, you just need to hang on a few more weeks.”

But Will was shaking his head. “So you’ll feed me enough to keep me alive, chained up here in this room, forever? What happens if you get hit by a bus one day? What happens if you get old? Avery, you have to either let me out or kill me.” 

“I’m not going to kill you!” Avery shouted. “Don’t you get it? I’m going to keep you safe, whether you like it or not.” He’d stumbled closer to Will without realizing it, and now he grabbed his face, made Will look him in the eye. “You’re my little brother,” he said, almost choking on the words. “I love you.” 

Will stared him in the eyes, not blinking, and said, “come closer.”

“What – ” 

But Avery was moving closer without even meaning to, his arms still cradled around Will’s head, until they were nose to nose, his weight braced against Will’s legs. He tried to pull away, but he couldn’t even get as far as jerking his head. _Thrall,_ he thought, and then, _you_ idiot _!_ He’d been so worked up that he’d forgotten to count the seconds he held eye contact for, or that Will drinking his blood, even separated from the source, would make him need even less time to grab him.

“Thank you,” Will said, and kissed him. 

If shock was enough to break thrall, Avery would have been free. Instead he kept staring into Will’s unblinking gaze even as their noses bumped, even as Will took his upper lip in his mouth and bit. The world was getting more dreamlike; he felt his blood flood out but no pain, and a second later he felt something else instead, a strange tingling spreading over his mouth and out across his face. He was aware of Will sucking on his lip more as a series of sensations than anything coherent; warmth on his upper lip again and again until there was more tingling, and then warmth again. Will’s eyes swam and multiplied in his vision, doubling and then quadrupling their effect. He thought Will bit his lower lip, or maybe his cheek, or maybe both; he couldn’t tell. Time had slowed so much that he almost thought he could see the shape of it. It looked like the whole universe. It looked like Will. 

That was the last thought he had before going under. 

He dreamed in bits and pieces. Getting a job to move the sun and arguing with Raj over if it would fit in their truck; his mom, asking him to help her weed the garden, only every weed he pulled up turned into some creeping thing that he had to catch but couldn’t; cutting a zip tie off Will, only to find there was another and cutting that, and then another and cutting that, in some never-ending cycle; sitting on his college ex’s lap, eating strawberries with his bare hands and holding them so tightly they mashed into red pulp and slid thickly down his arms. 

He almost woke up for a second, but someone told him to go back to sleep. It was just Will, Avery realized, and for some reason that should have worried him, but it didn’t. It couldn’t. 

 

The next time he woke up, it was dark, and he couldn’t move. 

No, Avery realized. He could move. Everything just hurt. His mouth felt like one throbbing wound, and so did his neck. He reached up to his throat and felt it – two fang marks, evenly spaced. And then his hand drifted down, and he felt two more. 

Avery stumbled to his feet, then back down to his knees as the whole world went red and spun. He made himself get up by inches, feeling his way along the wall until he got to the light switch. 

He was in his bedroom. Will’s cell. Only Will wasn’t in it anymore. The chair Will had been tied to had been ripped out of its bolts with inhuman strength, and in its place was Avery’s mattress, dragged back in from the living room. It had even been made up with clean sheets, though Avery had sweated and bled over them since then. 

He tried the door. He wouldn’t have had the strength to heave it open even if it had been unlocked, but it wasn’t. 

Avery sat down on the mattress. His chest hurt, like the whole weight of the world was pressing down on it, and it choked him until he couldn’t breathe. He thought he was clutching his chest, but he couldn’t tell; his hands were numb and he couldn’t control them. He wasn’t getting any air. He was going to die. He was going to die, and Will was out there somewhere. 

He put his head between his knees and stayed there. It felt better, anyway. He could almost breathe like that. 

 

He must have fallen into something like sleep, because the next thing he remembered was a familiar sound, and then another. The locks sounded the exact same from this side. Avery made himself sit up, and that’s how he saw Will, a dark shape against the shadows, before he stepped into the room and closed the door behind himself.

He looked better. He was still skinnier than he’d ever been in life, but he didn’t look like his face had been stretched on too thinly anymore. The sunken hollows under his eyes were gone, and even his lips looked fuller. And he was smiling, that familiar crooked smile with a little more color in it, but not much. 

“Hi, Avery,” he said cheerfully.

“Hey,” Avery said numbly. 

“I brought you something to eat,” Will said, and he put one of those ready-made TV dinners by Avery’s feet. He’d peeled back the plastic over what looked like pasta drowning in sauce and added a fork and knife from Avery’s silverware drawer. Avery stared at them. He guessed Will wasn’t worried about murder attempts. He was stronger and faster than Avery even in the best conditions, and right now Avery felt like he’d fall over if he tried to stand again. 

It probably didn’t matter. The fork and knife weren’t made of wood, anyway.

Will kept looking at him, waiting for a reaction. “I’m thirsty,” Avery said.

“Oh, right. Water! I forgot about that,” Will said, then opened the door like it weighed nothing and locked it again behind himself. Avery stared at his pasta without touching it for the thirty seconds it took Will to come back and unlock the door. 

“I’m working to put in another door in front of the hallway,” Will said. “Then you’ll be able to get to the bathroom and have water from the sink whenever you want.” 

He’d clearly been out. Avery didn’t buy TV dinners, and Will was wearing new clothes, a nice polo shirt and jeans a size too big for him, the way he’d always worn them when he was alive. “Did you kill anyone?” Avery asked. 

Will smiled. “I saw Mom,” he said, and Avery jerked to his feet, and then immediately back down again when the world heaved sideways. He put his face against his knee and focused on breathing for a long moment, and when he looked up again, Will looked worried. “I’m sorry I drank so much from you,” he said. “I won’t again until you’re feeling better. I just needed the connection to be strong enough for you to untie me, and I was really thirsty.” 

“Did you kill Mom?” Avery asked.

“ _No_ ,” Will said. He looked annoyed, his face scrunched up in that little-kid way Avery had always thought was cute, even when Will was old enough that it shouldn’t have been. “I went to her when she was asleep. Drank just enough from her hand that I could work with her dreams a little. I just wanted to make sure she was okay, and she definitely wasn’t, you fucking liar. I fiddled around so she at least had some peace about me and worried less about you. Good job not visiting for a month, by the way. Shitty of you, but that’s a long enough break between visits that I think I can keep making her think you’ve been visiting once a month from now on.”

“From now on,” Avery repeated. He couldn’t deal with this. Everything made his head hurt worse. “Will, you can’t keep me like this.” 

Will rolled his eyes. “You kept me like this. For months.” He knelt down and slung a companionable arm around Avery’s shoulders. “It’s just temporary,” he said. “I’m working on the hallway, and eventually the whole apartment. And after I can be sure you’re not going to try to kill me again, we can go out together.” He kissed Avery’s forehead. Avery tried to flinch away, but Will’s arm around him was like a steel bar. 

Will must have noticed, but all he said was, “It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

Avery was kind of scared he would. 

 

Will had been right. It hadn’t taken very long for him to convert the hallway into a prison too, maybe a day, if Avery’s time sense was right at all. His phone was elsewhere – Avery could only hope Will hadn’t been able to guess his passcode – and all the windows were not just boarded up, but melted shut, with big sheets of metal welded into the frames. The floor and walls were all closer than before. Will must’ve figured out what he’d done with the insulation in his bedroom and copied it. Avery estimated there was probably at least six inches of the stuff under every surface, which was serious overkill. He was pretty sure both his neighbors were pushing eighty. No one was going to hear him scream anyway.

He couldn’t even hear Will out in the living room, but he knew Will was out there all the time, because he kept coming in to visit Avery. He left him books and crossword puzzles like they were kids on a road trip being forced to entertain themselves without electronics again. He brought Avery a million pens and no pencils, and Avery lost the better part of several days trying to do something useful with the springs inside of them. 

Will noticed, of course, but he never said anything. He laughed sometimes, which infuriated Avery, but privately Avery had to admit he was probably right not to worry. Will had done a better job making a cage than Avery ever could have with his puny human strength. Will said that no one had come looking for him, which Avery hoped was true, since the alternative was that Will had killed anyone who had and was lying about it. He was pretty sure Raj didn't have his address, at least, and he always visited his mom instead of the other way around.

Mostly, Will was nice to him, for a certain fucked-up definition of nice. Avery’s closet was filled with his clothes again and his desk was stacked with cards and puzzles. Will fed him as much as he wanted and whatever he wanted, though he was such a crappy cook that it was all microwaved stuff until Avery complained enough that he switched to takeout. And Will let him roam around his prison instead of keeping him tied up, which would have been smarter but would have driven Avery even crazier. Instead, Avery could lie out in the hall trying to burrow through the wall with a spoon, or sulk in the bathroom for as long as he wanted. 

Today he picked the second option. He stood in the shower, letting the water pour over him, and contemplated flooding the place. Someone would notice that, but somehow he thought that would end badly for whoever noticed, and he didn’t put it past Will to move him to a shipping container next. His little brother had always had a vindictive streak. Avery had been soft and stupid; he’d had Will secure, and then he’d screwed it up by talking to him like he was the same person he’d been before. Will would work the opposite way, he thought. He’d try to be friends, but the second that stopped working, he’d stop trying. Avery would only have one shot at this. 

He’d moved onto contemplating a combination of water damage and chipping away at the looser insulation around the toilet with a spoon to get at the wood underneath before he noticed Will watching him.

He jumped. “Jesus, Will,” he said. “I locked the door!” A second later, he felt stupid. Oh right, he’d _locked the door_ in his jail cell. 

Will didn’t seem to notice how dumb it was. He was too busy looking Avery over. “You’re looking healthier,” he said. 

Avery turned away from him, heart pounding. It was true; he felt fine. Even the gashes in his mouth had closed up. But he knew what Will was thinking, and he didn’t want him thinking it. It was selfish, with Will probably killing everyone he drank from outside, but the thought of it chilled Avery to the bone, even under the hot water. “I guess,” he said into the spray. 

He felt more than saw Will getting closer, the way prey felt something closing in on them. Even the air in the room felt like it was closing in on him. His instincts were screaming at him to turn around, to keep an eye on Will, but it wasn’t like he was any safer facing him. Probably less safe, showing him his neck like that. 

“Avery,” Will said, and Avery shut his eyes. He didn’t want to hear or see whatever pleading Will was going to try. But instead of either, he heard the shower turn off. Before Avery could open his eyes, he was crowded face-first against the wall of the shower with Will going for his neck.

Avery froze. Somehow he’d been sure Will would ask, that he could maybe talk him out of it. Instead he waited a second too long to start fighting, or maybe any time would have been useless, because Will grabbed his wrists and forced them above his head in one easy motion, grabbing his chin to tilt it just how he wanted with the other hand as he bit.

This wasn’t like being under thrall at all. Avery had felt almost high then, aware of the sensations but floating above them. Now he was shockingly present. The bite was a slash of pain, followed by the cool wetness of Will’s mouth, sucking. It felt like it was pulling more than just blood out of him, but at the same time it was making him warmer all over, little tendrils of heat curling through him in a way that made no sense, and that was when Avery realized he was getting hard. 

Panicking, he tried bucking Will off him, but Will might as well have been a wall, and he mostly ended up rubbing against the tile. _Fuck,_ he thought, nauseous and pulled in a thousand different directions at once, hating this and hating himself and almost managing to hate Will. _Fuck._

Will rubbed his jaw in a way that he must have thought was soothing, then dropped his hand slowly down Avery’s body, grabbing at it the whole way. Avery felt colder and then warmer everywhere it touched, and he knew where it was going, but he didn’t believe it until Will wrapped his hand around Avery’s cock.

“No,” Avery said, but Will didn’t listen, moving his hand up and down the shaft, squeezing on every stroke. It felt good, and Avery hated how good it felt. “No,” he said again, and then, “Will, you’re my _brother_.” 

Will moaned against his neck in response and tightened his grip, jacking Avery faster. Avery was all the way hard now, and Will’s grip was perfectly tight. Avery tried to yank his arms away, but Will tightened his grip there, too, until Avery thought he might have bruises after, if he had any blood left in him then. Will was stronger than him and utterly inescapable; there was nothing Avery could do to stop this, and that thought made this shamefully better for him, even as it filled him with despair. 

He grit his teeth to keep in all the noises he kept almost making. Will was making enough for both of them, moaning against Avery’s neck again and again, licking messily over the bite mark he’d made before sucking at it again. It was another shock of good-bad sensation that mixed with the hand on his cock and the hand on his wrists and the firm line of his brother behind him, shoving him up against the tile, until it was all part of what was making him move his hips into Will’s hand.

Avery hissed and shut his eyes, tried to shut it all out and pretend he was somewhere else, but Will still smelled like the stupid cologne he’d decided was cool when he was twenty, and the shape of him against Avery was far too familiar, and Will was hard, too, hard and close enough that Avery could feel it rubbing against him through Will’s pants. 

He came anyway. Will kept rubbing him through every last shaky aftershock, and only then pulled off Avery’s neck, kissing it softly. 

When he pulled back, Avery almost fell. His head was buzzing in a way he couldn’t totally blame on blood loss. He almost wondered if he was under thrall again, but thrall hadn’t left him with all this awful echoing space to think in. For one awful moment that empty space was his whole world, but then shock settled over him like a blanket and he grabbed at it desperately. 

Will must have sensed the change, because he dropped Avery’s wrists in favor of snuggling up against him. He made little sympathetic noises and grabbed Avery’s chin again, this time to tilt his head enough that Will could lick the tears off his face. Avery hadn’t even realized he'd cried. They stayed there for a long moment, just long enough for Avery to start shivering, and then Will gently toweled him off. Avery was distantly aware when Will forgot to do his hair, but he said nothing, not even when Will took him by the hand like they were children again, or lovers, and put him to bed naked. 

“Goodnight, Avery,” Will said, and kissed him sweetly on the mouth before locking him in.


End file.
